


I Like His Smile

by soupysoop



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-12 21:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16879407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soupysoop/pseuds/soupysoop
Summary: Debbie doesn't really understand her brother. The Gallagher siblings think about Mickey.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> first shameless fic, might add onto it a carl perspective, since this whole thing is inspired from that one carl and ian scene!
> 
> also let me plug my mickey/ian playlist while im at it https://open.spotify.com/user/12126547027/playlist/4lUwCnGRCJyK4LFJovo7b3?si=FtirZHToTIa4I-mCw9BG-Q

Debbie doesn’t understand Ian, supposes the whole family doesn’t. They love him, she loves him, they just don't get him. He has his fair share of Gallagher traits - beyond that of just being a head case, which he's done absolutely everything in is power to hide. Secretive, private, reclusive, limited Ian. She doesn't understand Ian because Ian has never permitted any understanding with her. Elusive, self obsessed, Gallagher, through and through.

 

Thats the kicker - Ian doesn't want anyone to understand him, but his family will always know him, and they'll always know him the best. Like any of them, with all the love Ian is willing to give out, with all his stubborn sense of justice, he’s selfish. He’ll turn his back at the flick of a switch, and he’ll run away and blame everyone but himself.

 

She doesn’t understand him, supposes that's fine. What matters is that she _knows_ Ian, they all do.

 

The true turbulence that's plaguing her in 'un-understanding' is that Debbie doesn't understand his _love life_. She doesn’t understand Lip’s love life, Fiona’s love life, Frank’s love life, doesn’t get her OWN love life. Her whole family feeds off of this collective romantic dysfunction like it’s an IV strapped to each one of their arms. Debbie doesn’t understand any of it, even if it’s literally flowing through her veins. She sure as hell is familiar with it. Sees it fall out - in the eye of the hurricane. She knows it way too well, but Ian has taught her that knowing something is never coequal to understanding it.

 

Mickey and Ian, Ian and Mickey. Debbie, like the rest of the family, doesn’t get it. At all.

 

She wants to, though, desperately. Because a Gallagher is no Gallagher if not desperate for love. She understands  _and_ knows that much. 

 

How can a couple start up a relationship beating the crap out of each other, getting beaten the crap out of, and still end up on the side of mostly function? Being in the closet, sugar daddies, going to juvie, a forced marriage, a baby, pimping, a porno, two psychotic episodes, one depressive one, cheating, breaking up, running away to _Mexico_ , prison, and still they’re in love? And together?

 

Debbie can’t ask Ian point blank. _‘Hey, how’s the EMT job going? Also what’s the secret to long lasting love?’_ as if that wouldn’t alienate the hell out of him. She needs a well meaning, genuine question to ask. One that would tell her a lot with its simplicity. One that could spur an answer without Ian knowing what he’s answering. One that she knows he will understand.

 

“What do you like about Mickey?” is what she chooses.

 

Ian pauses, taking a moment to absorb and think. They’ve been sitting in relative silence at the kitchen table for a while now. His eyes drift off unsteadily, and he answers not looking at her. Instead, he’s staring ahead at nothing, thoughtfully.

 

“I like his smile.”

 

Alright. Debbie thinks about smiles.

 

Ian’s smile is unique. His upper lip disappears and the corners of his mouth thin out, his teeth clench and his eyes get a crazed, dark look to them. It’s not very attractive especially at first glance. And Ian’s laugh? Just as manic. If he’s not consciously restraining it to a subdued deep chested chuckle, it bubbles out of him hysterically and cartoonishly. It’s like a series of ‘hoo’s’ and ‘ha’s’ giggles, cackles, almost like he's faking it. It ranges from throaty, raspy chuckles to high pitched, yipping boyish screams.

 

Of course, if anyone knows Ian for Ian, his smiles and laughs are just how he is. They’re goofy and very ugly, but Ian.

 

Debbie likes Mickey, which surprises her. The rest of the family has a tendency to pay no mind to his existence let alone acknowledge the involvement it’s had and _has_ in Ian's life. It’s pretty easy to do that with Mickey, unfortunately. A lot of the love he has to give, all genuine and pure hearted, gets lost in translation with his general filthy, violent demeanor. Personally, Debbie wouldn't go as far as to call him a psychopath, but she wouldn't stand up in defense of Mick if someone did so happen to call him one. It’s complicated, Mickey is a very complicated guy. But Debbie is alright with him. Probably a red headed thing.

 

Ian likes Mickey’s _smile_.

 

To an unfamiliar eye, Mickey’s smile probably would appear to be either non existent or a cruel smirk. But Mickey’s been loitering around in her life for the better part of 5 years now. She’s seen him, strangely, at moments that people normally don’t see a man like Mickey in. Vulnerable moments that make her feel awkward just thinking about, so she usually doesn’t. She doesn't understand Mickey, but like Ian, she knows him.

 

Debbie's seen Mickey cry, and she's seen him smile.

 

It’s kind of like the polar opposite of Ian's impish gig. It’s got a perfect, unguarded shape about it - expressive in a very handsome way, always lighting up his eye’s in one way or another. Mick’s smile makes him look...something. Like a real something. It’s loving, she guesses. Maybe if he was a little kid his smile would look cherubic, like a little baby angel painting. It sort of reminds her of Fiona’s smile - it’s nice, it's wide, it's pretty. Maybe if she was into really pale gay guy's, she’d find it beautiful.

 

“I can see that” she grins.

 

Trying to hide it under his palm, Ian smiles back. He makes brief eye contact before sheepishly looking down.

 

She still doesn’t get it.

 

Debbie understands by now that no one truly understands anyone. She doesn't understand Ian, and it can be frustrating, but she's accepted it. She still doesn’t understand love, even though she knows by now what it is and can be, simple questions tell a lot but not enough. 

 

At the moment, though, she guesses love is just a matter of who’s smile you know well enough. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl, Lip, Fiona

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK IT i had to post this shit its been laying around for too long, i worked too long editing it, needed to post it so this head ache wasnt for nothing. sorry that i went a little very much hard on lip, try not to take any of this too seriously. this entire fic is made out of pure spite...

Mickey is bad _ass_. He’s a hard mother fucker. Filthy, rabid, constantly foaming at the mouth. Mick doesn’t let his fuck ups keep him down, doesn’t let his weaknesses mess with his head. He's a total dick wad about it most of the time of course, but Carl still digs him. He's probably seen, like, 10 different dead bodies, and he’s not all fucked up over it. Not like Carl is, at least.

 

Well, actually, he probably is. But he's wizened from that type of street shit. He mostly finds it in the way Mickey talks, or the way he vibes. Cracks showing in his tough ass demeanor. Sometimes when Carl's talking to him about whatever - guns, drugs or the such, some of it comes out. Worn, tough, and natural. He think’s Ian’s into that shit - the bad ass Mick. And yeah, he understands that the worst parts of the guy are probably his criminality and overall thuggishness, he gets that. He guesses. Whatever. Ian, he wants to deny it, but he totally digs at least _some_ parts of it. 

 

Carl’s not going to act dumb and pretend he hasn’t seen Ian get all lazy eyed when Mickey goes full blown macho ape shit on some sorry shit. There’s something in Ian that’s always going to love Mick’s scared up arms and rabid dog sensibilities. He’s the closest in blood to Monica, and it shows. Dude is always going to skip proudly after Mickey, smiling smugly while trying to get a hold of one of his bloody knuckled hands, leaving some sad gay guy crumpled up on the pavement behind them.

 

Nothing gets Ian more Ian-y than Mickey; he goes crazy over the fuck head. Carl thinks it’s romantic, but he's into that crazy love stuff. 

 

Ian once said to him that he likes the way Mickey smells, and for some reason, the comment has always stuck, because Mickey’s normally a filthy guy. Didn’t have access to a shower or just chose not to take one when he was younger, stalking down the street looking like he crawled out of a chimney and rolled in some dirt to clean the soot off. And, yeah, Carl has plenty of memories of Ian curled around Mick’s torso sniffing the dude’s skunky musk like it was the best smelling perfume ever. Fucking vile, for real. It's gross and crazy and Carl totally wants everything to do with it. He wants to be that dumbly in love with someone some day - thinks that’s pretty mature of him to think, all things considered.

 

* * *

 

Lip doesn’t get along with Mickey Milkovich. He sees him more as a psycho by-product of his environment rather than an eligible bachelor to bend over and stick it in. He doesn’t see why Ian is so head over heels for him, speculates it has something to do with masochism.

 

He tries not to think about Karen. Doesn’t think about Karen.

 

He knows Mickey is smart, real smart. He’s got a faster mouth on him than Lip does. He likes a clever, quickly delivered quip and to dodge the attack that follows. Mickey’s the type to run his mouth like an engine, dodge the attack, and then throw a couple punches in retaliation, tongue still rattling off insults so niche it’s almost like he’s delivering jokes. He's a repressed, way too sensitive, totally fucked up, criminal and can still run verbal circles around anyone that tries to square him up.

 

Lip can tell that Mickey is constantly taking in everything around him. Totally grounded in reality, there’s not an idealistic, delusional bone in his body. He's cognitive as hell, bright eyes with no bushy tail. Lip is pretty sure Mickey thinks 90% of anyone around him is an out of their damn mind, and he’s kind of right. Compared to Mickey’s no nonsense, shut-the-fuck-up attitude, most people end up looking like fumbling idiots. Albeit less psychopathic and ruthless fumbling idiots.

 

Lip can relate, in a sense. He tunes it out, Frank uses it to his advantage, Mickey can’t help but be miserably frustrated that no one can keep up.

 

Out of all the Milkovich's, Mickey’s smart enough to not kill anyone. He’s smart enough to practice compassion, and coming from a background like his you have to be one smart mother fucker to be as compassionate as Mickey is. Mandy’s probably even smarter than him in that. There's something about that that Lip won't admit he's scared of.

 

He doesn’t want to think about Mandy. Don’t think about Mandy.

 

Mikey’s savvy for a thug. He’s moralistic for a psychopath. He’s too smart for a high school drop out. Most irritably, Mickey is something a Gallagher usually is not - he’s honest with himself, and he learns from his mistakes. Mickey grows as a person because he wants to, because he knows he has to, because he knows, in weird backwards ways, what the right thing to do is. Because, damn it, Mickey is smart. Lip guesses he’s jealous. If Lip was honest, he could say it intimidated him.

 

If he could be honest, he’d think about Karen. He’d think about Mandy. He’d be able to think and think and think, think even more than he already does. Think about himself, _really_ think about himself.

 

Mickey got on his knees for Ian, Mickey chased Ian around, Mickey curled around him, and he did all that saying while saying sorry. If Lip were being honest, he’d say it made him insecure. He isn’t ready to admit he’s a dumb ass like Mickey is.

 

Lip’s willing to strip away every facet of himself and stomp on their disgusting remains before he’s willing to look himself in the mirror, look himself right in the eye, and admit he’s _dumb_ . That he did things that were _wrong_ , that he hurt people, that he could be a hypocrite, that he could be naive, that he could be _selfish_ . He can’t get on his knees and cry, and say, ‘ _im sorry, im sorry_ ’.

 

Mickey’s smart, Mandy’s even smarter. Karen was just fucking like him.

 

Lip doesn’t get along well with Mickey.

 

* * *

 

 

Mick’s good for Ian. Despite what Ian has thought in the past, Mickey’s _always_ been a pretty good fit for Ian. It’s not like Ian was some cutesy little saint before Mickey, wasn’t like Ian wasn’t as willing to fight, fuck and blow his life up before Mick. He's sweet, fucked up as much as anyone else is, but he’s _sweet_. Ian loves Mickey, Mickey loves Ian, Fiona loves Ian and if Ian loves Mickey, Fiona loves Mickey too. It could be that simple, clean cut and uncomplicated, but of course it isn’t.

 

She thinks about Jimmy. Steve. Jack. Jimmy Steve Jack. Fiona doesn't want to think Ian finds any fucked up in the head thrill from Mickey, but she can’t say for sure. Ian’s more of a loyalist romantic, he thinks this type of stuff out more than her. She can still understand Ian, more than she would like to admit to one of her kid-siblings.

 

Fiona has long admitted to herself you only come across a love so hard and real once, even if she keeps fucking herself over. Even if she keeps failing herself, getting fucked over while fucking herself over. She knows, she’s aware. It’s just hard. It’s kind of heart breaking, to be honest. Fiona doesn’t want to grapple with another heart break to add to the jar she has already. It's bad enough this one has lasted for as long as it has. It’s good enough that she can just know.

 

She  wishes she had the guts to in moments past to relate to Ian. Be able to find the common ground she’s never been able to have with him. Comfort him like she should be able to. But really, if Fiona is practicing honesty, she wants to be comforted by someone who gets it as well as she does. Because Ian gets it, in his own closed off, aloof, dumb ass way.

 

There are just some people that erase your sense of reason, Ian understands that. There are some people that you can’t help but love and love and _love_ , and he gets that. Wishes he didn't, wishes she didn't.

 

An unspoken kinship that maybe if either them practiced being open and honest with themselves or each other, they could bond over. It’s almost funny how her and Ian have only ever given each other worried, knowing looks, or completely ignored each other’s situations. And by funny she means completely pathetic.

 

Fiona feels like a guilty coward for never speaking up. She wonders if Ian feel’s guilty as well. Fiona think’s about Frank. She thinks about Jimmy Steve, and wonders if Ian got the same shameful, hateful pit of deep love and desire in his heart when he was apart from Mickey. She knows she does.

 

Fiona think’s Mickey’s sweet, and she knows he’s got a better grasp on this bullshit than her and Ian or anyone else combined. He’s got a grasp on it in the way that Kev and Vee do. He's learned to not be afraid of it, he’s learned not to run away, he’s learned not to fuck up with it from fucking up with it. Ian hasn’t, not really. Fiona hasn’t, Lip hasn’t. Debbie and Carl haven’t. Frank will never learn. Monica never did. Jimmy didn't. Jimmy really, _really_  never fucking learned.

 

Damn it. Mickey is so god damn sweet, he’s a sweetheart. He’s the sweetest ex-con, ex-drug dealer, ex-pimp that has ever come out of the south side.

 

He gets that there’s that one person in your life that erases your sense of reason, and with that you embrace the change and develop a new common sense. Mickey gets that there is that _one person_ you can’t help but love and love and _love,_ and he understands that it isn’t the end of the fucking world when that happens. Mickey gets that with love comes sacrifice, comes change, comes hardship. Mickey gets love.

 

She hopes she’s not delusionally projecting all her bullshit on her kid-brother’s boyfriend. She hopes. Because, Fiona, she feels like a guilty coward. She’s never had the strength to talk about this with Mickey. Or Ian. Or anyone for that matter. If she has, it’s ended in absolute flames. 

 

She thinks about Jimmy Steve. Jimmy. Steve, Jack, Jimmy. She thinks about him. She thinks about herself. She’s practicing being honest.

 

Fiona loves Ian, so much. She knows Mickey loves him too. And for that, she loves Mickey.

 

**Author's Note:**

> leave a smexy little kudos if u liked :3
> 
> also sorry if this has been done before, ive read like...a total of 10 shameless fic since ive finished the show


End file.
